


No Future That She Fears

by ElinorJane



Category: Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Ahsoka Tano Needs a Hug, Ahsoka's been through a lot, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Ezra Bridger Has Issues, Ezra being a big brother, So has Ezra, The Clone Wars - Freeform, Younglings, Zeb being a big brother
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-25
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-17 05:14:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28968873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElinorJane/pseuds/ElinorJane
Summary: Given Ezra’s history, I think there’s more to the story of S2 episode “The Future of the Force.” If you’ve ever wanted to see Ezra being a big brother, now’s your chance. Also features some Ezra and Ahsoka bonding. Slight spoilers for the last few episodes of S5 of The Clone Wars. The title is inspired by the song "Let Her Be A Child" from A Tale of Two Cities musical (look it up, it's great!)Takes place directly after “The Future of the Force.”
Relationships: Ezra Bridger & Ahsoka Tano
Comments: 8
Kudos: 46





	No Future That She Fears

“Why not?” Ezra glared at Kanan and Hera with arms crossed. “Why can’t they stay here?”

“Ezra.” Hera’s voice was gentle though with an edge to it now. “We simply don’t have room aboard.”

“We could double up cabins,” Ezra insisted, and Kanan raised an eyebrow. “Or turn the cargo hold into a room—we don’t smuggle much anymore—”

“But we still need to pick up cargo from time to time,” Kanan firmly pointed out.

A small wail cut through the air, and Ezra turned to look at the source of the whole argument. Sabine sat on the common room bench holding Alora, the baby girl. Sabine bounced the girl, and the wail subsided into whimpers. Oora, the Ithorian, also sat on the couch, holding Pipey in her arms and watching anxiously.

Ezra set his lips in a line. “We can make it work. You all made room for _me_!”

“It’s not just the space, Ezra.” Ahsoka stood behind the couch; she uncrossed her own arms and came forward into the light. “Your crew is part of the Rebellion now. What kind of life is that for a youngling?—always on the run from the Empire and always in danger?”

“Suits me just fine,” Ezra retorted.

“Because you haven’t known anything different,” Ahsoka said gently.

“Yeah, I have, actually!” Ezra spat, and he turned away from Ahsoka. He jumped as he realized he now faced Hera, who had also come forward.

“The Empire wants these children, Ezra. And they want us. They’re always on the lookout for our fleet, and if the Empire captured all or some of our ships while the children are here? We’ve all but handed over their target!”

“And you’ve got to think about what their parents want,” Kanan added. “I’m sure Oora doesn’t want to raise her baby in a war zone.”

Oora spoke earnestly in her native language, and Kanan gave her a nod.

Ezra huffed, his arms still crossed. “Fine. Fine, but what’s going to happen to them?” He glanced at Sabine, holding the baby girl. “What even happened to Alora’s family?”

Ahsoka sighed and suddenly looked weary. “Alora’s grandmother died of her wounds not long after I found her.”

Ezra gasped quietly and wrapped his arms around himself. Ahsoka approached him laid a hand on his shoulder. “But I’ll find a new home for the youngling. Somewhere safe and hidden.”

“Yeah, _where_? And who’s going to want to take in an orphaned kid?”

“Ezra—” Kanan began, but Ezra ploughed on.

“A kid hunted by the _Empire_? Who’s going to take that risk? You don’t find people like that just anywhere! We have to fight so hard _because_ people don’t think like that. Look, Ahsoka, if we don’t take care of those kids, who will?”

Dead silence fell over the common room. Alora set up another wail, and Sabine bounced the girl in her arms, shushing her with a troubled look. Pipey also whined in his mother’s arms, and Oora had her eyes fixed on Ezra, her posture tense.

Ahsoka began to speak, but Kanan cut her off. “Ezra, if you want to discuss this matter with Ahsoka, do it in private.”

He used the firm tone and look that Ezra knew better than to argue with. “Fine,” he muttered, crossing his arms again and stalking toward the door. He didn’t look back to see if Ahsoka followed, but he heard her firm footfalls. 

As they went into the hall, he heard Hera speaking to their guests: “In the meantime, you all can stay here.”

“You can have my cabin,” Kanan added.

The door whooshed shut, and the conversation dimmed. Ezra turned to face Ahsoka. “Look, I do want what’s best for the kids. That’s _why_ I want them to stay!”

“What is best for you is not always best for others,” Ahsoka said gently.

Ezra hunched his shoulders and shot her a skeptical glare. 

“You are old enough to understand and use your gifts.” Ahsoka nodded toward the closed door of the common room. “They are not yet. They need to grow up somewhere safe. As safe as possible,” she added sadly.

“Yeah, I _know_. It’s safe here! Sure, we’re on the run from the Empire but…how do you know that won’t happen to them once they’re in their new homes? How do you know the Empire won’t occupy those worlds—or find the kids again? They’ll be right back in this mess! But we’ll protect them here!”

Ahsoka gave a slow nod, but something about the set of her lips and her tense posture made Ezra suspect she was losing patience. “I know you would do your best. There may come a time when you and Kanan as Jedi will have to protect the younglings—as I did back in the Clone Wars. But for now, your guardians are right. You must think about what is best for the children and not simply what you want.”

“It’s not—this isn’t—not what I—argh!” Ezra dug his arms into his sleeves and stamped a foot.

Ahsoka raised an eyebrow in surprise. “Stay calm, Ezra, and tell me what else concerns you.”

This counsel had the opposite effect, and Ezra almost couldn’t see straight. He glared and clenched his fists, angry at himself for not expressing himself better, angry at the world in general for being the way it was, angry at the Empire. Angry for what had happened to him. He stomped away without another word and marched down the hall to his cabin. He banged on the button to shut the doors and climbed up to his bunk. He lay down with his back to the door and his arms wrapped around himself, heaving sharp breaths.

Voice came back to him, sights, sounds. There had been a day when he was eight years old, hungry, barefoot, and begging in the markets. He’d seen friends of his parents’, the Fayrefrons, shopping across the streets. He’d paused and stared at them. They made their purchase and wrapped up their goods. Then they’d turned. There was no way they didn’t see him. Or recognize him, in spite of the dirt and tatters. They’d bade good-bye to the vendor and hurried away. And Ezra had felt as though he’d been hit in the mouth.

A few minutes later, the door whooshed open, but he didn’t hear anyone come in. He did hear Zeb’s voice, rough but hesitant. “Kid?”

“It’s not about what I want, Zeb.” Ezra turned over and pushed himself up. “I mean, I do want the kids to stay here—I like them. But…they need to be…I-I don’t want them to end up like…like I—” He cut himself off and turned away, staring hard at the wall.

Heavy footsteps sounded as Zeb came near. “Figured it was something like that,” he said quietly.

“Nobody takes in orphans, Zeb.” Ezra’s voice wobbled, and he ducked his head. “There’s nowhere for them to go!”

“Yeah. I know.” Zeb sighed. “You’ve still got time to catch Ahsoka, if you want to explain.”

Ezra huffed. “I tried. I can’t…can’t tell her everything.”

Zeb gave him a sympathetic look. “Yeah, well…keep it general, just say people are too afraid to take the risk, and you want to be sure. And look.”

Ezra glanced at his friend as Zeb continued. “Kanan and Hera…they’ve probably guessed what the matter is, and I bet they’ll speak to Ahsoka about it. They know as well as anyone that those kids need a good home.”

Ezra thought for a moment and gave a short nod. He pushed himself off the bunk and sprinted out the cabin door and toward the cargo bay. “Ahsoka!”

She’d been about to step off the ship. Now she turned.

Ezra ran down the boarding ramp and skidded to a halt. “I…” words failed him again. “The kids, they…” What was it Zeb had said? “It’s a pretty big risk, taking in kids…the Empire…how…?”

Ahsoka looked kindly and curiously at him, but Ezra felt frustration rising again, and he wrapped his arms around himself and dug his fingers into his sleeve. “Just—just make sure you find people—people who care. Enough to take this risk, and…”

_Enough to protect like Kanan, guide like Hera, fight like Zeb, tease like Sabine_. His lips trembled.

Ahsoka smiled a put a hand on his shoulder. “People like that are more common than you realize. I know where to look.”

“Sure,” Ezra muttered, and Ahsoka gave him a nod and went to her own ship. Ezra sighed as he watched her go, and once her ship had faded into the distance, he slowly turned and went back inside.

Sabine created a couple of makeshift cribs for the kids out of old, shallow crates, and nearly every crewmember donated a pillow or blanket to keep their visitors comfortable. Hera sent Zeb on a milk run—literally—to get food for the two children, and Zeb went without complaining. Ezra hung around, darting off to get something once the need was expressed, but mostly lingering on the outskirts of the activity and watching.

He couldn’t sleep that night, and he tossed and turned. The events of the day replayed in his mind. Oora’s home destroyed. The Inquisitor’s red blades, relentless pursuit. _Alora’s grandmother died of her wounds…_

A thin wail came from the cabin where the guests stayed. Ezra sighed and turned over. 

If the Ghost crew hadn’t come along—if he hadn’t grown up on a backwater world—would he have been kidnapped as a kid?

Ezra shuddered and turned over again. And how many other kids weren’t rescued? How many Inquisitors were there, anyway? He clenched his fists and gritted his teeth.

Another wail came from the cabin down the hall. That was part of the reason he couldn’t sleep. Alora hadn’t settled down since that afternoon, and Oora had been taking care of her. For hours. He wondered if the kids would remember this event. He hoped they wouldn’t----they were still pretty young. Then again, he could remember some stuff that happened when he was two and three years old. Mostly just details or sounds or images, but they were vivid. Ezra suddenly shoved off the blankets and hopped to the ground.

He knocked softly on the cabin door but heard no answer except Alora’s cries. He opened the door but hesitated in the hall. Pipey was asleep on the bed, but Oora was pacing back and forth across the cabin floor, holding the baby. Ezra didn’t know a whole lot about Ithorians, but Oora looked exhausted.

“Hey,” Ezra called softly.

Oora paused and looked at him. Alora writhed and screamed. The sight almost faltered Ezra’s resolve, but he looked back at Oora and said, “I’ll take her. For a little while, at least,” he added.

Oora replied in a grateful voice, and Ezra quickly came into the cabin and shut the door. Oora showed him how to hold the baby with both arms, supporting her head, and then she wrapped the girl in an extra blanket, delivered a final command that Ezra couldn’t understand—probably a request to call her if he needed help—and lay down next to her own baby.

Ezra sat down carefully on one of the seats by the wall. Alora was hard to hold; she squirmed and whimpered and burst out crying again just when he thought she was settling down. He tried walking around with her and rocking her, but nothing seemed to work. After a while of this, he sighed. Pipey had seemed happy enough and gone right to sleep and hadn’t even been wakened by Alora’s cries. Then again…Pipey had his mother nearby.

Alora whimpered again and squirmed and drew a choked breath. Ezra bounced her gently. “Hey, it’s okay. I miss my parents too,” he said in a low voice. “They were taken away by the Empire. I—I don’t think they’re dead, actually. I just don’t know where they are.” He swallowed hard and looked down at the baby. She squirmed and drew sobbing breaths. “It’s okay,” he said quickly. The Inquisitors are gone, and they’ll never hurt you again, I promise. Just…try not to remember all this when you grow up, okay?”

Alora hiccuped, staring up at him with wide, wet eyes. Almost like she was hoping…hoping desperately to find a guardian or friend in the stranger holding her.

“Yeah, I get it,” Ezra whispered. “But you’re safe here. Everyone here…they’re good people. You’ll be okay, I promise.”

He held the baby until his arms felt heavy enough to drop off. Then he woke Oora, carefully handed Alora over, and went back to his cabin and slept late into the next morning.

***

Word came from Ahsoka a day or so later: she’d found a place to hide Oora and Pipey.

“What about Alora?” Ezra demanded when Hera relayed the news to the crew.

“Ahsoka will find a family for her,” Hera assured him. “But it may take a little more time. Oora and Pipey can move somewhere hidden with fake identities, but Ahsoka will have to find a family who will take in a child wanted by the Empire.”

Ezra crossed his arms. “You really think she can?”

“It won’t be easy,” Hera added firmly, “but if anyone can do it, Ahsoka can.”

“She’s got more contacts than Hera and I put together,” Kanan added from where he stood behind the couch, “And she’s been to more planets than both of us combined.”

Ezra nodded slowly. Kanan studied him for a moment but Ezra turned and left before his master could say anything.

Ahsoka came back the next evening and explained her discoveries and plans to Kanan, who in turn relayed them to Oora. The four of them departed in Ahsoka’s ship that evening—though Ahsoka didn’t say where they were headed, Sabine noted with some annoyance.

With Oora gone, Hera decided to move Alora’s makeshift crib to the common room at nights so that they could take turns watching her if needed. Zeb and Sabine both grumbled about this a bit. Alora was always fussing, no matter who was holding her or who wasn’t holding, and she never slept very long. The crying had thoroughly grated on everyone’s nerves. But though Ezra could stand some peace and quiet, he didn’t really want to let her go either.

At the end of the day, Kanan returned alone, saying that Ahsoka was now looking for a new home for Alora. It might be a few more days, but she’d keep in touch. After he delivered this news to Hera, he turned to Ezra. “You okay?”

Ezra nodded. Kanan studied him again as though he didn’t quite believe it, but he didn’t press the matter further.

That night, Ezra lay awake in his bunk, staring at nothing in the darkness and thinking hard. If there was still some way he could convince Kanan and Hera to let Alora stay… If there was some example or argument he hadn’t thought of yet, he had to find it.

He hadn’t explained himself well before. Did Ahsoka really know what to look for?

Like a tidal wave, more memories came back of his life on the streets. Rainy days spent huddled in a doorway, shivering and wringing out his clothes, hoping against hope someone wouldn’t order him away again. Nights so cold that he risked arrest by Stormtroopers to sit pressed against the warmth of walls that had faced the sun all day. Rifling through garbage to find food. He felt sick.

From the common room came the whimpers and grunts that signaled another screaming fit coming on. A signal he’d learned to recognize over the past few days. Ezra stared up at the ceiling and sighed. Then he climbed out of bed and tiptoed to the common room.

Alora was kicking and thrashing her fists, her little face scrunched up. Ezra quickly leaned over the side of the crib and stretched down a hand. “Hey, it’s okay. You’ll have a new home soon, you know. And maybe you’ll feel better.”

Alora checked herself and looked up at him and grabbed his forefinger in her fist. Ezra grinned. Then Alora’s face crumbled again, and she let go of his finger and set up a wail.

“Okay, come on.” Ezra reached into the crib and slowly lifted her. He was always afraid he’d drop her, or her head would snap back, and she’d be hurt. But he managed to pick her up without doing any damage, and he propped her up on his shoulder. This had been awkward the first time he tried it; now the motion was almost instinct. “I wouldn’t want to sleep in a bed with walls either.”

He sat down on the couch and patted her back. Alora whimpered and gulped, breathing heavily as though she were about to unleash another wail. Ezra bounced her gently. “Shh. It’s okay.”

It didn’t work. Alora screamed again, and Ezra patted her back, shifted her on his shoulder, and finally lowered her almost to his lap, holding her with both arms. “Hey.”

She drew a stuttering breath but looked up at him with wide eyes.

“It’ll be okay. I know it doesn’t feel like it right now, but…I’ll make sure you find a new home. A good home, where people care about you, and they’ll protect you and love…” His voice caught, and he cleared his throat. “And—and friends who won’t abandon you if…if anything happens…” He swallowed again and nodded firmly. “I’ll make sure of it. I promise.”

Alora stared with round, wet eyes, almost as if she understood what he meant event though she didn’t understand the words. Or maybe she was just distracted from being upset. Ezra kept talking quietly about nothing in particular, his plans for those stray junk pieces he picked up and what Sabine had been painting recently and a funny story about a smuggling job on Lothal gone wrong. Before very long, Alora’s eyes began to blink and droop.

“Yeah, that’s it.” Ezra bounced her gently. “Go to sleep. You’re okay.”

In a few minutes, Alora was breathing steadily, her wet baby lashes closed. Ezra looked down at her, suddenly remembering a long-ago childhood wish for a baby brother or sister. Back when he lived with his mom and dad and thought everything was all right.

The door whooshed open, and Ezra almost jumped, though he caught himself in time. He did let out a rush of breath and turned to the door.

Ahsoka stood there, smiling softly at the two of them. She came forward, quietly, and sat carefully on the bench next to Ezra.

Ezra looked down at Alora. “Did…did you find…?”

“A family willing to take her in and protect her,” Ahsoka said. “She’ll be safe, Ezra. Don’t worry.”

Ezra didn’t take his eyes off the baby. “And their friends? Do they have good friends?”

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ahsoka tilt her head. 

“Do they have loyal friends?” he insisted. “If something happens to her new folks…will there be other people to take care of her?”

“It’s dangerous to have too many people know about this,” Ahsoka said. “There is great risk. But there also are a few people nearby sympathetic to the Rebel cause.”

Ezra’s voice was low and weary. “Yeah? What if something happens to her new parents? Will those sympathetic people—will they actually _help_?”

“I believe so.” Her voice was even but with an underlying curiosity.

“ ‘Believe’? But you don’t _know_?”

“No, I don’t. But Oora can contact me if she is in trouble,” Ahsoka said. “Alora’s new parents will do the same.” She turned to face Ezra fully, giving him her full attention. “There’s something else, isn’t there?”

Ezra pressed his lips together, his eyes still on the baby. He struggled with himself. He spoke suddenly, as though some will other than his own compelled him. “I…my parents…when they were taken, I was…our friends didn’t…didn’t…” He cut himself off and shut his mouth tightly.

“Didn’t help?”

He shook his head, a short sharp motion. “No one helped them…or me.”

A pause. “Oh,” Ahsoka said softly. “I see.”

“I trusted them,” Ezra whispered, “I trusted them and…I grew up alone. On the streets. Thieving, doing whatever it took to survive. I became someone my…my parents wouldn’t have…” He swallowed hard, struggling to keep his voice level. “All because of those—those _friends_.” He shook his head again, fiercely. “I just don’t want that to happen to her—or Pipey! And here, we’d…we’d take care of them.”

“I understand.” 

Ezra scowled and let out a sharp breath. “Really.”

“Really.” Something deep and sad in her tone made him turn and look at her. She gazed down at her half-clasped hands, and her eyes were sad too, dim and distant, as though seeing things in memory that had happened long ago. “My own friends turned on me too when I was young.”

“You mean when the Empire…wiped out the Jedi?”

“Yes. But also before that.”

Ezra looked at her in surprise. “What—what happened?”

Ahsoka sighed and briefly shut her eyes before she continued in a low tone. “I was framed. For a crime I didn’t commit. My own closest friend…lost her way, and…hurt many people. Many innocent people. Everything was set up against me, and…I admit, it looked bad.”

She fell silent, shades of emotion and subtle movement passing through her eyes as though seeing everything for the first time. Her hands curled in on themselves a little. Ezra felt a stab of guilt at his accusation. Before he could say anything, she continued, “But…but my friends knew I would never commit such a crime—or should have. As it is, they expelled me. Turned me over to the Senate for trial. All but one.”

“Who was it?”

“My…my master.” Her voice softened, but pain flickered in her eyes. “He was the only one who stood by me.”

The very air around them seemed heavy. After a minute, Ezra said quietly, “Sounds like he was a good master.”

“Yes.”

Another silence. 

“What happened then?” Ezra asked.

Ahsoka gave a short sigh and roused herself a little. “My master discovered the true criminal and brought her before the Senate to confess. And it turned out to be my best friend. But I was declared innocent and…set free.”

Something odd in her tone, something opposite the relief and peace he’d expect, made Ezra frown. “But you didn’t go back.”

“How could I? I didn’t trust myself.”

“Yeah, and I didn’t trust anyone else,” Ezra murmured. “I was seven when I was abandoned. How old were you?”

Ahsoka turned to him with raised eyebrows. “You were seven?”

Ezra shrugged with a deep scowl. “Yeah. How old were you?”

“Seventeen.” Ahsoka gave a dry half-smile. “So, not quite as bad for me, I suppose.”

“I don’t know, it sounds like the same pain,” Ezra said. “Just hurt us at different times.” He sighed and glanced up at Ahsoka. “I’m—I’m sorry for what happened to you.”

She gave a small but soft smile. “Thank you, Ezra. It’s behind me now.”

She probably believed it, but Ezra guessed it still hurt her more than she would admit. Might hurt as freshly as the day it happened if she’d let herself think about it and didn’t try to stay brave and stoic. He drew a long breath and gestured with his head toward the baby. “So, will she be safe? Will she have good friends to care for her if something happens to her parents?”

“I believe so.”

“That’s not good enough, Ahsoka!” He sighed heavily. “I’m—I’m sorry, I just…”

“I understand,” Ahsoka said. “You want to protect the youngling. If it is any comfort, her new parents…well, it it sad for them, but they have already lost a child. I believe they will take every care and precaution to protect her.”

“Yeah…my-my parents did the same thing. Didn’t change anything.”

Ahsoka studied him for a minute or two, thinking. “Suppose I arrange a signal for you. If something happens to Alora’s parents, you can visit her home and see where she is and who is taking care of her.”

Ezra brightened. “Really? You can do that?”

“It’s not much, but it is better than nothing, I hope,” Ahsoka said with a smile.

“Yeah—yeah much better.” Things might be rough for a few days until he could get to the planet, but at least Alora wouldn’t be alone for the rest of her childhood. “ _Thank_ you, Ahsoka.” 

Ahsoka nodded and began to speak again, but Ezra added suddenly, “And can you take her? My arms are about dead.”

Ahsoka laughed softly and put out her arms and lifted the baby without waking her. Ezra shook his arms and gave a sigh—and whacked his hand on the edge of the derjak table. He grunted and shook his hand.

“Thanks to you, this youngling and the other are not alone in the universe, Ezra Bridger,” Ahsoka said. “Even if something happens to her parents, she has a good friend in you.” She smiled down at the baby, whose little lashes were still closed and pink mouth in the shape of an O, and turned a fond gaze on Ezra.

Ezra gave an awkward smile, not really sure how to respond. “If we don’t, who will, right?”

“Hopefully, many more will be willing to take a stand in the future,” Ahsoka said. She looked down at the baby again and gently stood up. “Please tell Hera that I’ve taken Alora to her new home.”

Ezra also stood. “Okay.” He gave a slight frown and peered at the sleeping infant; he shouldn’t wake her up, but he wished he could say good-bye. He gently touched the back of her little fist with his finger. “Do you think she’ll remember us? I mean, I don’t want to her to remember the Inquisitors but…”

“I don’t know. But maybe you’ll see her again someday.”

Maybe it was just his imagination, but Alora seemed to be smiling when Ezra glanced at her face again. He smiled back and then quickly gathered Alora’s few things and took them to Ahsoka’s ship. There was another makeshift cradle there, and Ahsoka put the baby down gently nodded at Ezra, and stepped aboard. Ezra backed up until he ran into the _Ghost’s_ landing ramp and watched her take off.

Firm footsteps sounded behind him as the roar of the starship faded into the sky. Kanan slipped an arm around Ezra’s shoulder, and Ezra leaned into his master’s touch.  
“You okay, kid?”

“Yeah. Ahsoka said she’d arrange a signal, so that if anything happens to Alora’s new folks, we can go check on her.”

Kanan gave his shoulder a squeeze. “Sounds good. You’ve come a long way from that kid we picked up on Lothal.”

Ezra smiled. “Yeah, I guess I have.”


End file.
